


a merry little christmas

by everydaybicon



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, and feelings and stuff, charlie makes an appearance because i love him, everyone loves judy too, henry doesn't really but i felt bad leaving him out of the tags, honestly more feelings than christmas, it's the holidays with the hardings and judy loves her family, it's the night before the night before christmas, jen is sleepy and judy is grateful, jen is so fucking cute, judy loves jen so much, mentions of ice skating even though they live in california
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28191258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everydaybicon/pseuds/everydaybicon
Summary: She was really looking forward to spending Christmas with all of them, felt her heart melt every time she looked over at the mantle and saw a stocking with ‘Judy’ written across the top in glittery, loopy letters, hanging proudly between Henry’s and Jen’s.orJudy reminisces on her and Jen's developing relationship.  This Christmas, she's grateful for everything she already has.
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding
Comments: 26
Kudos: 70





	a merry little christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello this is so soft and not much really happens! (I think that may be my brand)
> 
> There are already so many lovely holiday fics in the tag and they're all making me so happy, so here's my contribution!! This one is not nearly as Christmas forward because I do love a tangent, and because I for some reason set it on December 23rd!
> 
> Please enjoy!!

“Jen,” Judy whispered softly, running her fingers through Jen’s hair, the pale blonde glowing gold in the warm cast of the twinkling Christmas tree lights nearby. “Jen, hon?” she whispered again, “the movie’s over, let’s go upstairs.”

Jen mumbled something incoherently, turning a little in her sleep, nestling her head deeper into the bundle of blankets atop Judy’s lap. Judy smiled as she watched Jen settle, resigning to herself that she could wait just a little bit longer, could let Jen doze here for just a few minutes more.

It was late—almost midnight according to the clock under the living room TV—and the _Love Actually_ end credits had almost finished rolling through. The movie itself had ended a while ago, but Jen remained blissfully asleep and unaware, her breathing deep and even, eyelids fluttering a little only when the credits music changed or swelled.

Jen had been drifting for the better part of the second half of the movie, her head in Judy’s lap and her legs stretched out across the sofa, a soft knitted blanket draped over her pajama-clad legs. 

Judy wasn’t bothered by Jen’s apparent lack of interest in the film; they’d both seen it before a few times over, only having decided on it tonight because it was on, and they’d needed an excuse to have another round of Bailey’s hot chocolate—Judy’s newest seasonal obsession. 

So they’d sat down with their large mugs and let the familiar Christmas Brittishisms wash over them, let the gravelly singing voice of Billy Mack lull them into a warm, holiday haze.

And when their hot chocolate had finished, empty mugs and snack bowls set down on the coffee table, Alan Rickman having just secured the gift that _wasn’t_ for Emma Thompson, Jen had leaned in for a quick kiss and wordlessly shifted from her seated position beside Judy, stretched herself out on the couch and laid down, using Judy’s blanket-covered thigh as a pillow, her head facing toward the screen.

It wasn’t a position they found themselves in often, but each time they did, Judy savoured the vulnerability of it, loved the fact that it seemed like Jen found comfort in it. 

It had been one of Judy’s favourite discoveries after they’d finally gotten together all those months ago, that Jen—her tough, badass, Brooklyn Jen, who could and would curse out anyone who challenged her—absolutely loved being cuddled by Judy. 

It wasn’t something Jen had admitted out loud, wasn’t something Judy found worth embarrassing her over to actually bring up. But more nights than not, right before they went to sleep, Jen would slide into bed beside Judy and press her body into hers, would find Judy’s fingers and take her hand, holding Judy’s arm over her as she fell asleep. 

Judy had been a little surprised at the revelation that for the first time in a relationship, she’d found herself being the big spoon, the cuddler rather than cuddlee. Her previous partners hadn’t exactly viewed her as a protector-type, and in the past she’d naturally fallen into the habit of being the held rather than the holder, aided probably by the fact that she’d always been the smaller one in her relationships.

But Judy didn’t mind this new change in the slightest, the shift in role with Jen. In fact, she relished the idea that Jen felt safe in her arms, that she might even feel protected by Judy being with her at night. And she loved holding Jen in bed, loved being able to see Jen’s chest rising and falling as she drifted off, loved being able to tuck her face into Jen’s neck and smell her hair, kiss the patch of skin behind her ear if she felt like it. 

And she adored that over time, this had slowly translated to other parts of the day, that as Jen became more comfortable being affectionate with Judy in front of the boys, Jen started to curl into her not just in bed but on the couch, would lean back against her on family movie night, and would, on rarer cases like tonight, abandon all semblance of toughness and lay her head right in Judy’s lap, letting Judy play with her hair and plant kisses on her temple as they watched whatever movie the boys had chosen, the boys sitting a little ahead of them in the living room armchairs, leaving the couch for Jen’s outstretched legs. 

But tonight, it was just Judy and Jen, hence the boozy hot chocolate and movie choice, Henry having been too tired to stay up and watch something with them, Charlie at his girlfriend’s house for the evening.

As much as Judy loved the time spent together as a family, she considered herself very lucky whenever she had alone time with Jen, when she had Jen all to herself. 

Jen was so much _softer_ when they were alone, her pride gone, inhibitions dissipated, not hesitating to kiss Judy sweet and deep whenever she wanted to, to squish her face against Judy’s and trace her finger over the line of her nose, unabashedly ready to lay her head in Judy’s lap to watch a movie. 

Jen hadn’t fallen asleep like this before though, had always eventually sat up when the position started bothering her neck, but tonight Jen had stayed put, hadn’t moved to resume her initial seat beside Judy on the couch, and Judy had been enjoying her being there too much to question it.

Judy hadn’t even realized how tired Jen was until she’d looked down to catch Jen’s reaction to Martin Freeman’s simulated sex scene, and saw that she had been nodding off, her eyelids fluttering shut immediately every time she tried to reopen them.

So Judy had wordlessly pulled the knitted throw from the back of the sofa and carefully draped it over Jen’s legs, not wanting Jen’s bare feet to be cold all the way on the other end of the couch, and decided to just let Jen sleep. She must’ve been really exhausted if she could fall asleep with Colin Firth yelling in broken Portuguese. 

Judy wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the day’s activity that had tired Jen out so much, but considering Jen could hold her fucking wine, Judy decided it was probably down to the latter. 

They’d spent the afternoon ice-skating at the Aliso Viejo Ice Palace, Jen skating circles around the rest of her family, who were clearly extremely out of their element.

Judy had spent most of the afternoon clinging desperately to Jen’s mittened hand or to the boards, sometimes both, whatever was in reach, really.

The boys had admittedly done a better job on the ice than Judy, though Henry also stuck close to the boards most of the time. But after the first hour, Charlie had really got going, and by the end was mostly able to keep up with Jen, his technique albeit much clumsier than his mom’s graceful ease.

The outing had been Judy’s suggestion, an attempt to give Jen a little piece of the Christmases of her youth, to recreate the yearly tradition Jen’s late father had tried to maintain, which Jen had mentioned to Judy a few nights prior—family ice-skating the day before Christmas Eve. 

The Aliso Viejo Ice Palace was no Rockefeller Centre, but they certainly had ice—ice that Judy’s ass had become increasingly familiar with as the afternoon progressed, tumbling down almost every time an over-excited kid zoomed past her. Ice-skating was harder than Judy had thought it would be, and she would probably have the bruises to prove it, but she had enjoyed watching Jen on the rink, gliding across the ice like she was made for it. Her ease made plain old walking seem awkward and brutish in comparison. 

When Judy’d complimented her skills, Jen had laughed, saying she was just good in comparison to the rest of the family, was the only one of them who wasn’t a first-timer. But Judy’d insisted she looked better out there than anyone else by far—told her that _“dancer Jen”_ was showing and that she really, really liked it.

Jen had just laughed and shook her head, rolled her eyes as she skated away, pulling Charlie along with her for another lap around the rink.

The energized, athletic Jen of the afternoon, with bright eyes and a pink nose from the cold, lay in stark contrast to the sleepy sated woman in front of Judy now, snoring softly as the credits petered out.

She looked adorable like this, cozied up in Judy’s lap, her expression completely relaxed and her mouth parted just a little as she slept, and for what felt like the hundredth time over the past few days, Judy couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was to be here with Jen, spending their first Christmas together as a couple, as a real family with her and the boys.

She felt like the luckiest person alive.

Gently, trying her best not to wake her, Judy reached for the remote by Jen’s hip and turned the TV off, wincing at the too-loud power-down sound. She looked down and saw Jen crinkle her nose, stir a little and shift again, settling herself even closer into Judy this time, the back of her head warm against Judy’s stomach.

Yeah, Judy didn’t mind sitting here a little longer with her at all.

Judy tucked a loose gold strand behind Jen’s ear, and leaned down to place a light kiss on her forehead. Somewhere in her dreamy haze, Jen must’ve felt it, because Judy saw her lips twitch up into a smile, and it was all Judy could do not to reach down and wake her up by kissing them too.

…

They’d been together for a few months now, the best few months of Judy’s life.

They had ended up falling into it naturally, almost accidentally, the affection between them gradually increasing until it was undeniable that the comfort and closeness they shared went well beyond that of ‘really really good friends’. 

Looking back on it now, it was kind of hilarious just how long it had taken them to finally take the leap.

It had started after the accident, when Jen had asked Judy if she wanted to move into her bedroom so they could look after each other better. And then, as the weeks turned to months, long after they both made full recoveries, Jen didn’t ask her to leave. And so, Judy stayed, more and more of her possessions slowly making their home in Jen’s bedroom until it was no longer apt to really call it just Jen’s.

Judy had waited for Jen to be the first one to call the room _‘ours’_ , but to her surprise, hadn’t had to wait very long from the time she’d moved in for it to happen. It had really only been about a week when Jen brought down Judy’s phone one morning as Judy was getting ready to leave for work, saying _“you left this on our bed, Judes. You expecting to go the day without it?”_

And _‘our bed’_ had somehow been so much better than just _‘our room’_ , so much more than Judy’d bargained for.

It was through this natural sharing and melding of spaces, through the little slips that doubled as affirmations that Judy started falling deeper and deeper, knew that her feelings for Jen were only getting stronger, egged on by Jen’s increasingly frequent affection and proximity.

It started with Jen shifting a little closer to the centre of the bed some nights, sometimes reaching for Judy’s hand before they fell asleep. And Judy welcomed the closeness, didn’t mind at all that somehow during the night they’d seem to gravitate toward each other even more, would wake up with their legs tangled together, her hand sometimes still in Jen’s under her pillow. 

Then, the nighttime closeness started seeping into their days, afternoon hand-holding and morning couch-cuddling becoming more and more frequent, easier and expected until it was too natural to question, too right to chance overanalyzing or risk asking Jen _why._

But Judy didn’t really have to ask. A part of her already knew. She could see that with each passing day there were more and more moments when Jen would _really_ look at her, her brow a little furrowed, her gaze soft but intense, like Judy was a puzzle she just hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Judy knew what she _wanted_ the looks to mean, knew that if Jen gave her the go-ahead she’d happily be hers forever, and while a little voice in the back of her head kept warning her not to, Judy’d started to believe that she and Jen were inevitable, that she was just waiting on Jen to see it too. 

Thankfully, mercifully, incredibly—she’d been right.

Truthfully, Judy hadn’t been all that surprised when one morning, as Judy handed Jen her coffee and Jen leaned in for her usual ‘thank you’ kiss on Judy’s cheek, it instead came as a peck right on the lips, too firm to brush off as an accident, too squarely to pretend like it only happened because Judy’d moved a little or Jen had missed. 

Jen had seemed startled by her own actions, stumbling back wide eyed and frightful, but before she could say anything, attempt to explain it away, Judy had, well, jumped her. 

She’d taken the coffee from Jen and set it safely down on the counter, smiling before eagerly closing the distance between them. She’d crashed their lips together again, assuring Jen that it was okay, that it was in fact what she’d been waiting for. 

And after that they were just _together_ , the boys never really questioning the fact that Jen had started calling Judy _‘baby’_ sometimes, and then as she’d gotten more comfortable, started kissing Judy goodbye in front of them when she was leaving for work.

Really, Judy’d noticed nothing more than a shared look between Charlie and Jen the first time he’d seen Jen kiss her goodbye, the boy raising an eyebrow at his mother, eliciting just a simple pleased shrug from her in response. If Jen had talked to Charlie about her and Judy’s relationship further, Judy hadn’t been present for it, but she wasn’t sure he would’ve really needed any further explanations.

Being in a relationship wasn’t all that different from what she and Jen had been doing before after all. They’d already been co-parenting and taking turns with household duties, spending the days and nights together. The kids’ nonchalance about their deepening relationship made it pretty evident that they’d apparently been playing the parts for longer than either of them had realized.

From Henry, all Judy’d got in terms of questioning was a very innocent _“so if you and mom get married now, you’ll be our other mom for real?”_ when she was driving him to school one morning, the sheer hopefulness in his question making her tear up as she assured him she already was if he wanted her to be, his earnest agreement sparking a full on pull-over-and-cry session after she’d dropped him off. 

She and Jen hadn’t really put labels on it, hadn’t really defined what they were let alone talked about _marriage_ , but honestly, Judy didn’t particularly care to define it, was happy with just being _them,_ knew that Jen was still coming to terms with this newly discovered part of herself. For Judy, it was so much more than enough to just get to be with her.

But a few days after her conversation with Henry, when she and Jen were at the grocery store, Jen had ended up defining it for her. 

Judy’d been skimming the aisles to find Jen after she’d sent her off to find a few items, spotted her red blazer down aisle six by the jams and preserves, and as she headed towards her, she'd overheard Jen asking a staff member _“where the fuck”_ they kept the miso paste, mumbling _“I don’t know, my girlfriend wants it”_ when the man, attempting to make easy conversation, had asked what she was planning to make with it.

_‘That’s me,’_ Judy had thought to herself, unable to suppress her smile as she pushed the cart towards them, _‘Jen’s girlfriend.’_

And the thought made her feel a bit like a teenager, swooning over the simple, somewhat juvenile designation, but having Jen acknowledge it like that, saying casually to a stranger that Judy was in fact her _girlfriend,_ had Judy on a high like she’d never felt before. 

Aside from the title and the more casual public affection, not too much about their relationship had really changed. They’d been co-dependent confidantes from the start, had loved each other the whole way through.

It was easy with Jen—natural, familiar. They knew what the other person needed, knew how the other wanted to be loved.

Of course, the sex was new. And it was pretty fucking incredible if Judy did say so herself—only getting better with time as they learned more about what made the other tick, what exactly had toes curling and hips lifting up off the mattress.

It seemed like being in love really did make it better. At least that’s how Judy reasoned it to Jen to keep her inflating ego in check. But Judy not so secretly loved Jen’s cockiness, loved the confidence she’d quickly gained with Judy in the bedroom, the natural ease that existed between them seamlessly translating through their bodies. 

She’d adored discovering this side of Jen, and loved being the person that Jen felt comfortable opening herself up to, the person Jen didn’t mind sharing every part of herself with. 

She loved being Jen’s partner—her ‘ _person’_ in every sense of the word. Judy’d never felt so seen and held by someone, had never felt so wanted and needed than she had with Jen and the boys. She had a family now, the best one she could’ve dreamed of.

She was really looking forward to spending Christmas with all of them, felt her heart melt every time she looked over at the mantle and saw a stocking with _‘Judy’_ written across the top in glittery, loopy letters, hanging proudly between Henry’s and Jen’s. 

Judy’d never felt so excited for the holiday before, never having the right place or people to make it warm for her.

She’d spent the holidays of her youth hoping Santa wouldn’t forget her, her teenage years drifting through miserable group home holiday parties, her early adulthood trying to find warmth and love in friends she couldn’t figure out how to keep.

In more recent years, she’d spent the holidays with Steve of course. Spent the last five Christmas Eves pushed into a corner in Elaine’s austere mansion, awkwardly tapping her foot to Vivaldi and wishing Steve hadn’t invited so many of his business acquaintances. And at the end of the evening they’d head back home to his bleak white modernism and minimalist Christmas tree sculpture, underneath which lay an organized pile of neat, store-wrapped jewellery boxes.

Judy was always grateful that he’d gone through the trouble of getting her those bracelets and earrings, knew that each piece was probably worth more than any month’s pay she’d ever earned. But a part of her couldn’t help but notice how odd the sleek boxes with their crisp silver paper and expertly tied ribbons looked next to the colourful heaps of presents Judy’d made or bought for Steve in return.

And even though this year they’d been bullied into going to Lorna’s for Christmas Eve, Judy knew that coming home with Jen and the boys at the end of the night would feel so much different to coming home with Steve, knew that during the party Jen would never abandon her to talk to anyone else, would probably hang on Judy’s arm and drink too much wine and criticize Lorna too loudly at her own event—and Judy wouldn’t have it any other way.

Christmas hadn’t even come yet, was still two days away, but Judy was already ready to call it, was sure that this would be the best Christmas of her life.

She felt such incredible warmth and hope every time she spotted the colourful heaps of presents under their tree—the tree that Jen had let her pick out and Charlie had cut down for them, that Henry made sure had enough water every day. 

She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the family’s gifts all under the tree together, felt overwhelmed each time she’d go to put one there she’d gotten for Jen or the boys and see that another one for her had been added to the lot.

To her delighted surprise, she’d noticed a small giftbag with a tag that said “Judy” in Charlie’s writing, a large messily wrapped box half covered in tape that Henry had written “JUDY” across the side of in marker, counted far too many gifts of all shapes and sizes with labels stuck on top that said “Judy” in Jen’s slanted narrow scrawl. 

It was almost too much for Judy, taking stock of all of these beautiful tangible affirmations that she was part of this family now, that each of them had thought of her and wrapped something up, wrapped a lot of things in Jen's case, in colourful paper with messy ribbons. She felt so incredibly loved. 

And it didn't even matter what was inside them because Judy already felt spoiled, already felt like she’d gotten so much more than she deserved in the family she had here with Jen and the boys, who'd all gone out of their way to show Judy that she was really and truly a part of it.

…

Judy was startled out of her reverie by the sound of the front door opening, and Charlie trying (and failing) to close it behind him quietly. 

She heard him tiptoeing down the hallway toward the kitchen, cursing under his breath when he hit creaky spots in the wood. He was probably hoping she and Jen had already gone to bed, so the next day he could pretend that he’d gotten in by his 11:00pm curfew like he’d promised.

Judy smiled to herself, suppressing a laugh every time Charlie hit a particularly creaky board, happy that he was home safe, but knowing Jen wouldn’t be happy to learn he was an hour later than he’d said he’d be.

His entrance hadn’t woken Jen yet though, she was still snoozing deeply in Judy’s lap, and remembering the little giftbag labelled _‘Judy’_ in Charlie’s writing, Judy thought that maybe, just this once, she could let Charlie have this.

She craned her neck over the living room couch and watched him tiptoe into the kitchen, immediately stumbling back with a hand over his chest when he noticed her sitting there watching him. 

His expression quickly turned sheepish.

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t—“

“Shh,” Judy mouthed, putting her finger to her lips and pointing down at her lap.

Charlie approached slowly, peering over the couch to see that Jen was still in fact fast asleep.

“Don’t make it a habit, okay?” Judy whispered, raising an eyebrow and pointing a warning finger up at him. She softened her expression and lowered her finger. “How’s Natalie? You guys had a good time tonight?” 

Charlie opened his mouth to say something, closed it again and smiled, knowing he was off the hook.

“She’s good. Yeah, we did,” he whispered back, his sly smile reminding her so much of Jen. “Thanks Judy. Goodnight.”

He quietly grabbed some water from the fridge, gave her a small salute as he backed out of the kitchen, heading upstairs.

He was a good kid, had really matured over the last little while—was kinder, more considerate, and patient with his brother. Maybe he liked bending the rules just a bit, always had a little mischief in his grin, but those were things Judy could see he’d so clearly gotten from his mother. How could she hold that against him? 

Besides, staying out a bit later to be with the person you love for just a little longer really wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

She waited until she heard Charlie close his bedroom door before deciding to wake up Jen, not wanting to blow his cover.

It was after midnight now, less than 24 hours until Christmas, and Judy had started feeling pretty tired too. They had a big day tomorrow what with all the cookie baking Judy had planned and Lorna’s party in the evening. Judy also knew that she wanted her and Jen to both be well rested enough to still be wide awake when they got home after the party. She had a surprise for Jen hidden in her sock drawer that kind of _had_ to be put to good use on Christmas Eve. 

As much as she didn't want to move or disturb Jen, it was really about time they went to bed.

“Jen,” Judy whispered, gently rubbing Jen’s arm. “Jen honey you gotta wake up now. Just for a bit, okay?”

“Hmm,” Jen mumbled, stirring but still not really hearing her.

“Jennnn, c’mon sleepy-head let’s go to bed,” she said, booping Jen’s nose until she swatted her hand away, scrunching her face and blinking as she woke up.

“What time is it?” Jen yawned, her voice groggy from sleep.

“After midnight.”

“Charlie—“ Jen mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“He got home a little while ago,” Judy whispered leaning down to press her lips against Jen’s before she could ask too many questions.

Jen kissed her back softly, her hand coming up to cup Judy’s face.

“Mmm,” Jen said as Judy pulled back. “Why’re you stopping?”

“My neck can’t handle much more of that,” Judy said, “I’m too old.”

“No you’re not, I’m old.”

“No you aren’t, shut up!”

“Then kiss me again,” Jen pouted.

“If we go upstairs I can do you one better.”

“Mmm," Jen mused, yawning again, "does that mean you’re gonna put on that Mrs. Claus negligée I found in the sock drawer?”

“What! No! That was a surprise, how did you—“

“We share a sock drawer, Judes. Sometimes I take the ones from your side.”

“Oh! I knew I couldn’t’ve lost that many on my own.”

“Yours are nicer than mine.”

“I can get you the same ones.”

“But then they won’t be yours,” Jen smiled up at her.

“Oh, come on, let’s go to bed Miss Sock Thief,” Judy said, shaking her head and tugging Jen’s hand until she finally sat up, Judy’s lap immediately feeling the loss of Jen’s heat on top of it.

“How long was I out for?” Jen asked, standing and stretching. She moved to turn off the Christmas tree lights.

“A while.”

“And you didn’t wake me up?”

“No, I like sleepy Jen. She doesn’t steal my socks.”

“No, but she also couldn't write your name on a stocking in glitter glue.”

“She—what?" Judy fumbled, a little dumbstruck. "You said they did it for you when you bought it!”

“They offered, but said I’d have to come back to get it in like three hours, which I really didn’t have that day, so I just grabbed some stuff from the craft store and hoped for the best.”

“Aw, Jen! That’s—I can’t believe you did that.”

“It’s just letters. Wasn’t too hard.”

“No, I know but,” Judy squeezed Jen’s hand, looking up at her in wonder, “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“Yeah, Jude,” Jen laughed, “you’ve gotta have a stocking.”

“I—thank you. I love you so much.”

“I know,” Jen said, grinning. She brought Judy’s hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “Bed?”

“Mhmm,” Judy nodded, but she kept her feet planted, an eyebrow raised as she waited for Jen to correct herself.

“And I love you too,” Jen conceded, rolling her eyes. “As if the fucking glitter glue wasn’t enough,” she said, shaking her head with a smile, taking Judy's hand and leading her down the hall and upstairs to their bedroom.

It might've only been just after 12:00am on Christmas Eve, but Judy knew with certainty that it was already the best Christmas she'd ever had. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed!! Please let me know what you think! Happy Holidays <3


End file.
